Page 105 of One Night with a Prince
“If you want, we’ll sign something saying that the letters are authentic. If you win, we’ll hand that over. IfGenerated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.htmlwe win, you give us the letters.”
Gavin could see the conflict in Stokely’s face. He wasn’t quite as sure of his position as he’d led them to believe. He couldn’t entirely assume that Christabel would keep Gavin from prematurely revealing to the press what was in the letters. After all, Gavin had never shown such loyalty to a mistress before. Why would he start now?
Besides, Stokely wanted the letters free of any encumbrances. And Christabel’s offer made that possible.
“Come now, Stokely,” Gavin said, “it’s a fair proposal, and you know it.” His tone grew condescending.
“And youare a gambling man, aren’t you? You have a choice: Gamble on the final game or gamble that we don’t go back to London and spread tales about the letters that would make them useless to you. Which will it be?”
Stokely glanced from Gavin to Christabel, then back. “All right,” he said at last. “We’ll play for the letters.”
Ruthlessly Gavin resisted the impulse to crow.
Now all they had to do was win at cards.
Christabel couldn’t believe it. Heart pounding, she stared down at the trick they’d won, the trick that had just catapulted them into the final round past Lady Hungate and her partner. Perhaps the good fortune that had always evaded Philip had amassed itself to rain down on her and Gavin in their hour of need.
With a groan, Lady Hungate lifted her gaze to Gavin. “I swear, Byrne, you have the damnedest luck.”
“True, but in this case it wasn’t luck, Lady Hungate.” His eyes met Christabel’s. “It was skill.”
Lady Hungate cast Christabel a grudging smile. “You may be right, sir. You may just be right.” She turned to her partner. “Come, my dear, let’s go drown ourselves in Stokely’s brandy. No point to abstaining from it now that we’ve lost any chance at the pot. Again.”
When she and her partner rose, Lord Stokely looked over from where he was standing with the team they’d just beaten, waiting for the outcome. “Do we have a winner then?”
“Of course,” Gavin said, eyes glittering. “It’s just the four of us from here on out, Stokely.”
Lord Stokely came over with Lady Kingsley. “Shall we go on to the final rubbers now? Or do you wish a brief period of respite?”
“I don’t need any respite,” Gavin said. “What about you, darling?”
“I’m ready now,” Christabel answered. Or as ready as she could ever be for a game where so much was at stake.
“But before we begin,” Gavin told Lord Stokely. “I want to see the prize.”
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
“I thought you might.” Reaching inside his pocket, Lord Stokely drew out a packet and threw it on the table in front of him.
Her blood began to thunder in her ears. So close and yet still miles away. Gavin strode up to the table and reached for them, but Lord Stokely stayed his hand. “Ifyou win, and not before.”
“How do we know they’re the right ones?”
Lord Stokely glanced beyond him to Christabel, one eyebrow raised in question.
“It’s them,” she confirmed, her throat dry. She would recognize that faded yellow ribbon and the crumbling paper anywhere.
“What’s this about?” Lady Kingsley asked.
“Nothing you should worry your pretty head over,” Lord Stokely told her. “Just play to win, my dear. Play to win.”
“I always do,” she retorted.
“Shall we begin?” Gavin asked.
“In a moment,” Lord Stokely answered. “But first…” He waved over two footmen who’d been standing at the ready inside the door. “Mr. Byrne keeps a knife inside his boot. Make sure you relieve him of it. And search the chit, too—she’s been known to carry a pistol from time to time.”
Gavin’s lips twisted in a smile. “Don’t you trust us, Stokely?” he said, as the footmen searched him, removing his knife.
